


Wicked Carnality

by Larkawolfgirl



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Altered Mental States, Cunnilingus, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/F, Master/Pet, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Post-Canon, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, implied Kyoko/Sayaka
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 19:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10315802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Larkawolfgirl/pseuds/Larkawolfgirl
Summary: There was a time when Madoka was a normal teenage girl, then a magical girl, and then a goddess. There was a time when she wanted nothing more than take all the pain and suffering out of the world. But none of that mattered anymore.And it was about time Sayaka realized this.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [homurahyakuya](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=homurahyakuya).



> This is sort of a sequel to [Devil's Compensation](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6333988), but it can be read on its own.

Madoka turned her head at the sound of the door clicking open then shut. Her hand reached out toward the girl she knew to be there though her vision was still obscured by a black blindfold. The fabric was a comforting reassurance, but not so much as her master’s touch, and so she began to whimper in small meowing sounds to get her attention. Madoka could feel the edge of her skirt brush against her as she approached.

“There, there, Madoka,” her master said while petting sweetly through her hair. “I just had to go buy us food. What would you like for dinner? Fried rice? Curry?”

Madoka meowed softly.

“Fried rice? Okay, it’ll be ready in no time.”

She started to move away, but Madoka grabbed at her skirt in protest.

Her master chuckled softly. “Did you miss me that much?”

She had. She was seated on her knees, bare skin against the wooden floor, and she leaned back so that her bare torso could call for attention. She wanted to feel her master’s fingers on her—in her—she craved it with a passion which nearly consumed her.

Her master sighed. “Okay then. I can never deny you anything, my sweet Madoka.” She trailed down her torso, fingering light and peppering over her nipples causing Madoka to shiver in anticipation. Then her hand left her, and there was a long silent wait disturbed only by the quiet sound of clothing hitting the floor.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Madoka still remembered her life before—a life in which she was a normal girl, then a magical girl, then a goddess. She remembered pain and sadness. She remembered longing to suck all the pain and suffering out of the world so that no one else would have to suffer. But none of that mattered anymore. All that was left was this carnality which threatened to devour her in its searing jaws.

Her master’s hand found her again, cupping over her breast, palming at her. It sent prickles through her nipples.

“Homura-chan,” she murmured.

Homura found her neck and set on nibbling at her flesh as her other hand mimicked the first. Madoka brought her hand up to Homura’s head, holding her that much closer. Homura trailed downward, tasting all her nooks and crannies. Over her collarbone, her breasts, her stomach, and dipping tantalizingly into her belly button. The girl fell back further in pleasure until the point that it felt achingly unpleasant.

Realizing her disagreeable position, her master wrapped a hand around her back to hold her up higher while forcing her legs out straight with the other. “Lie back,” she ordered against her skin, and Madoka did so immediately, head swimming pleasantly with the care her master showed more often than not.

There was another pause, and Madoka’s nerves sizzled in eagerness. Then her mouth was on her, lips crushing against her lower ones, tongue snaking out to prod against her nub. Her tongue rolled over it, pushing in with varying rates of pressure, before sucking on it with vigor. The girl twisted herself, hands clenching so that her nails bit into the skin of her palm.

Homura’s tongue slid down along the lining of her lips. As she sunk into her, one hand brushed against her clit in soft teasing touches while the other messaged her inner thigh. Madoka moaned at the ministrations, feeling the fire within her lighting to a sweltering temperature. Her master ate her out slowly, with acute precision, and soon Madoka was panting in heavy breaths. Uncurling a hand, she wound it into the akuma’s hair and tightened. She came in a hot rush that left her stomach feeling lethargic. Homura lapped at the traces of her orgasm. She kissed her sweetly, and Madoka’s own tangy taste met her tongue.

Pulling back, her master untied the blindfold and it slipped down, unshielding her eyes for the first time in hours. Madoka blinked back the offending light before taking her beautiful master in. She wore a satisfied smile and impish eyes. “Now, let’s eat.” Madoka pouted slightly, giving a soft cooing sound. “I’m fine. We’ll have plenty of time for more fun after dinner.”

The pout vanished, replaced by a sparkling smile as her master helped her to her feet. Madoka remembered longing for more to life than this, but here—living it—this was all she needed or wanted.

Homura pet through Madoka’s hair absently as the girl nuzzled against her. Life was nearly perfect, but there was one annoyance still stuck in her side. She could simply kill Sayaka Miki. However, Homura feared this might be the final thing to push Madoka over of the edge, and that was the last thing she wanted. Madoka was the entire point, after all.

Her fingers dug a bit deeper into the girl’s pink hair. Then a thought came to her and a wicked smile found her face. “My pet, how would you mind going out with me?”

There was an affirmative purr.

“Sayaka,” Homura said in an off-handed tone, “you never learn, do you? I am on an entirely different level than you.”

Sayaka panted, eyes piercing. “I will never forgive you. You took them both, you monster.”

Homura gave a vile laugh. “Took them, did I? Does she look like a prisoner to you?” She gestured toward Madoka who was sitting limply on a park bench behind them in a pink floral dress. Her head lulled to the side, eyes nearly vacant, a tiny smile plastered to her face. Nothing shackled her, aside from Homura’s presence.

“You did something to her,” she accused.

Homura gave another laugh. “Nothing more than give her the pleasure she didn’t know she desired. You never knew she was such a pussy slut, did you? Would you like to watch her cum? It’s beyond words. She makes this cute little noise in the back of her throat, then her face gets so pink and her eyes bulge.”

Sayaka looked pale. She was shaking as she raised her sword again. “Just shut up, akuma!”

“I think not. You have gotten on my last nerve, and this will be your punishment for interfering. Now stand by and watch like a good girl.” Homura snapped her fingers and black webby strands appeared from the ground encircling her long-ago teammate. The girl’s face twisted in disgust as realization hit her. This was really about to happen. Homura couldn’t help the nasty smile of satisfaction.

She walked to Madoka leisurely; there was no hurry. When she was positioned behind her, her hand traced over her face, smile transforming at the way her lover clung to her every touch. “Pet, how would you like to play some more? Would you like that?”

She nodded.

“Do you see Sayaka there?” Another nod. “Do you mind if she watches?” A shake of the head this time. “Good.” Homura rewarded her with a pet from the crown of her head all the way down her back and to the edge of her buttocks. She gave the smallest of shudders at the action. Flitting her attention back to Sayaka, Homura grinned, “See, I’m merely giving her what it is she wants.”

“Don’t you touch her!”

Ignoring her, Homura tugged Madoka’s dress off in one motion. Normally she would take the time to take her lovely Madoka in fully, but right now she was more focused on watching Sayaka’s every reaction. Her forehead was clenched painfully and she started to turn her head aside. A new strand shot from the ground, encircling her neck just tight enough to hold her in place.

“I told you to watch.”

Homura ran her hands down Madoka’s bare arms, then her sides. The girl was panting with anticipation now. As much to tease Sayaka as her, Homura brushed along her stomach and the underside of her breasts then her inner thighs avoiding her needy core. Madoka gave a whine, and Homura giggled. “Be patient,” she cooed before kissing at her neck. Her pulse pounded against her lips, increasing each time her fingers inched impossibly close to where she wanted them.

Finally, she was merciful, hands spreading her legs uncomfortably wide before one hand plunged inside. She was already drenching wet, always so ready for her, and her fingers slipped inside without any resistance. Madoka’s head tipped back, a broken cry falling from her lips.

Sayaka’s mouth dropped, eyes unreadable. “Shit…”

“Ho..mu..ra,” Madoka pleaded.

“Yes, that’s a good girl, Madoka. You will get your reward soon, I promise.”

She nodded even as little cries left her mouth with each flick of Homura’s fingers.

Homura knew exactly how to bring Madoka over the edge as quickly as possible, but she was purposefully dragging this out. She finger-fucked her, meticulously avoiding her g-spot until the girl was all but quaking, her mouth wide and dripping saliva. Madoka’s hand found her forearm, holding on weakly. When Homura met her eyes they were colored with the beautiful soft spark of pleading.

Her wrist snapped, and Madoka jolted so hard she nearly slid off the bench. “Ahh!” Her voice came loud and genuine without filter, a bi-product of ingrained conditioning.

When Homura glanced back at Sayaka, she looked ready to hurl. Good.

Satisfied enough to turn her back on the girl at last, Homura circled her pet, making sure not to neglect her in the process. Now in front, she knelt down, waiting until her nose was close enough to brush her thigh to remove her fingers. Madoka gave a dissatisfied whine but it was immediately followed by a shiver of anticipation.

She knew what her reward was.

Homura moved in that final inch, her own moan coming as her tongue breached those hot, convulsing walls. Her taste hit her tongue, ever tangy sweet, and she let her eyes close, just savoring the moment. She lapped with abandon, shivering herself when Madoka’s hands gripped at her hair in that way she loved. Madoka held her there so that all she could smell and taste and feel was her.

Madoka made that curling meow sound she always did before she came. Homura rolled her tongue, readying to catch as much of her as she could, hand clenching on her thigh leaving nail prints. Then Madoka’s entire body gave a hard shudder, back arching, and she released the loudest noise of all. It was half shout, half whimper, purely Madoka. Not a second later, hot liquid cocaine reached Homura and she drank until the tremors in the girl’s thighs ceased. She gave her one final lick along the outside of her folds just to be sure she was fully clean before cupping her now tired-looking lover’s cheek.

Homura gave her an affectionate kiss before turning back to Sayaka who looked caught between crying and retching. Her anger, however, was blatant.

“You’re sick.”

“Honestly, I don’t care if I am. All I care about is Madoka. Anything else is not even worth my consideration.”

“You…” Sayaka clenched her fist. “You did this to her. You tainted her.”

“Yes,” Homura agreed immediately, enjoying the minute surprise it earned her. “Now,” she said, voice hardening, “you are going to stop bothering Madoka and me. Otherwise I will be forced to do the same to your precious Kyoko.”

Horror flickered in her eyes and she struggled violently against her bindings. “Don’t you dare touch her!”

“Ooh, did I hit a nerve? Like I said, all you need to do is leave Madoka and me in peace and nothing will befall her. Can you promise me?” Homura set ice cold eyes on her.

The fight drained from Sayaka as she cast her gaze from one binding to the next, understanding the position she was in. “Fine,” she said through clenched teeth.

“Good.” Homura smiled smugly. “Now be off with you.” With a snap of her fingers, the strands shot high up out of the ground, taking Sayaka with them. Then they shot her up with immense force. Homura watched the girl shoot through the sky before landing some blocks away.

Her attention was brought back to Madoka when she tugged on her sleeve. “Homura-chan,” she cooed quietly.

“Yes, Madoka?”

Her head was tilted adorably. “Can I return the favor now?”

Homura gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Of course. Let’s go home.”


End file.
